| Song | Feel So Near |
| Artist | Dougie MacLean |
| Album | Live from the Ends of the Earth |
| You’ll find me sitting at this table with my friend Fin and my friend John | |
| My friend Murdaney tells us stories of things long gone, long gone | |
| And we may take a glass together, the whisky makes it all so clear | |
| It fires our dulled imaginations | |
| And I feel so near, so near | |
| I feel so near to the howling of the wind | |
| Feel so near to the crashing of the waves | |
| Feel so near to the flowers in the field | |
| Feel so near | |
| The old man looks out to the island he says this place is endless thin | |
| There’s no real distance here to mention we might all fall in, all fall in | |
| No distance to the spirits of the living, no distance to the spirits of the dead | |
| And as he turned his eyes were shining | |
| And he proudly said, proudly said | |
| So we build our tower constructions there to mark our place in time | |
| We justify our great destructions as on we climb, on we climb | |
| Now the journey doesn’t seem to matter, the destination’s faded out | |
| And gathering out along the headland | |
| I hear the children shout, children shout |
| You' ll find me sitting at this table with my friend Fin and my friend John | |
| My friend Murdaney tells us stories of things long gone, long gone | |
| And we may take a glass together, the whisky makes it all so clear | |
| It fires our dulled imaginations | |
| And I feel so near, so near | |
| I feel so near to the howling of the wind | |
| Feel so near to the crashing of the waves | |
| Feel so near to the flowers in the field | |
| Feel so near | |
| The old man looks out to the island he says this place is endless thin | |
| There' s no real distance here to mention we might all fall in, all fall in | |
| No distance to the spirits of the living, no distance to the spirits of the dead | |
| And as he turned his eyes were shining | |
| And he proudly said, proudly said | |
| So we build our tower constructions there to mark our place in time | |
| We justify our great destructions as on we climb, on we climb | |
| Now the journey doesn' t seem to matter, the destination' s faded out | |
| And gathering out along the headland | |
| I hear the children shout, children shout |